


Love The Way You Lie

by periclism



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Forced Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, The Proposal AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24251584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periclism/pseuds/periclism
Summary: She is his boss, he her assistant. They practically hate each other, but everything changes when she forces him to marry her in order to avoid deportation to Valyria and keep her job.Inspired by the movie The Proposal
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 74
Kudos: 116





	1. A Strange Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea to write this story for a few reasons: 1: The movie the proposal is a genuinely funny and nice movie. 2: I liked the dynamic it would create between Daenerys and Jon.
> 
> This is my first time writing real fanfiction, though I have been reading it for a longer time, but I thought I'd give writing it a try. I'm still figuring things out and tips and comments with constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. I don't have a beta so there will likely be some spelling/grammar mistakes.

The alarm on his phone rang through the room. The shrill sound woke Jon with a start. Groaning, he stretched his arm out to push on the snooze button, not even bothering to look at the time, instead pushing his head further into his pillow. Jon used to be a morning person, but that had drastically changed since he had started working for Daenerys Targaryen. He had to endure another day at his miserable job. Today was Friday, something he always looked forward to, because it was the end of a long week of work, and that meant he’d have two days to himself. Two days without headaches, and no one ordering him around.

However, he looked forward to this weekend even more so than usual, because he was going back home to Winterfell for his father’s birthday. He was looking forward to seeing his siblings again, he hadn’t seen them in a long time. Living in King’s Landing working a full-time job, Jon simply didn’t have the time to visit very often. He missed his family, Arya in particular; his youngest sister had just spent a year studying abroad in the city of Braavos. Despite texting and talking on the phone almost daily, he missed her dearly and couldn’t wait to give her a big hug and muss up her hair like he always did. 

The alarm screeched a few more times before Ghost came trotting in his bedroom and started licking at his face, no doubt incredibly annoyed by his sleepy owner. Jon sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He fastened his watch around his wrist; it read 8:15.

_Shit._

He was going to be late. _Daenerys is going to kill me if she doesn’t get her morning fix of coffee,_ he thought bitterly. _Not the most pleasant of deaths._

He got up at lightning speed, suddenly very much awake, and began throwing on the clothes he usually wore to the office; a light grey suit, a white button-up shirt, leaving the top-button open, and sleek black sneakers to give to look a more casual appearance. Brushing his teeth, he checked his phone for messages. Seeing only a few from his family and Sam. He turned it off again, deciding he would have plenty of time to read and reply to them later.

Rushing over to the kitchen he opened the cabinet with dogfood and poured some in Ghosts feeder bowl. He added some water to the one next to it, and petted his dog’s magnificent white fur while Ghost was greedily gobbling up his meal. Jon felt his own stomach rumble. Breakfast would have to wait for him, lest he be fired. _Or worse_ , Jon brooded, even though Jon didn’t dare guess as to what worse would entail.

His disheveled hair found its way in a messy bun, some curls sticking out. He grabbed his brown leather messenger bag, and packed it with his laptop, some manuscripts with post-it notes sticking out on all sides, and the calendar for Daenerys’s appointments. Grabbing the dog leash and putting his keys and wallet in his pocket, he went out the door to knock on the door of his neighbor Tormund.

After a beat, the door creaked open, revealing the sleep-tousled, bright orange hair of his friend.

“What you doing here Snow? Do you know what time it is right now?” Despite sounding exhausted, Tormund’s loud voice boomed through the hall. Tormund worked as a bouncer at a nightclub, which did not come as a surprise to Jon when he found out; the man was practically a giant; at least a foot taller than Jon and maybe twice as broad. Tormund worked in the evenings and nights and slept during the day, explaining why he looked so tired. Jon felt terrible keeping him from his sleep.

“I’m so sorry to wake you Tormund, but could you take Ghost for a walk later? I’d do it myself, but I’m running late for work.” Jon pleaded with his friend, making exaggerated puppy eyes. Tormund had already been living here when Jon moved in, just shy of a year ago. They hit it off right away when Tormund offered to help carry some of the furniture inside. Now they were really good friends, and the ginger haired man has often checked in on Ghost when Jon couldn’t due to work. “Doesn’t have to be long; just let him do his business. I’ll walk him when I get home tonight.”

Tormund didn’t appear to be overly enthusiastic at the notion but then finally nodded his head, “Alright, I’ll do it.” Ghost’s tail was wagging happily, clearly eager for his morning walk.

Jon could kiss him right now. Instead, he gave Tormund the dog leash and thanked him profusely. Jon started to make his way to the stairs. They lived on the second floor of a recently restored apartment building, so the elevators would be way slower. “I’ll owe you one,”

“You bet, Snow.” He heard Tormund chuckling, the deep sound echoing in the hallway the last he heard before he went down the stairs.

He pushed open the door on the ground floor, leading to the bustling street. King’s Landing was known for its crowdedness and rush hour was definitely no exception. Jon lived in the part of the city appropriately called Riverside district since it was closest to the river, spreading from River Row all the way to The Hook and Aegon’s High Hill. It was the liveliest neighborhood; up and coming with loads of restaurants and cafes, with the Hook being the center of nightlife in the city. With Jon’s moderately good pay, one of the reasons he kept working for Daenerys despite her constant coldness and his family telling him to quit already, he was able to afford an apartment, not particularly big but enough for him and his dog.

Jon had applauded himself for finding a nice and relatively affordable place in a city that was known to be expensive and hard on newcomers when he first moved here. But now he cursed himself for not choosing something closer to his work. Jon didn’t have a car, so he went with the underground every day, which could be a pain in the ass. He scuttled his way to the end of the street, where the station was.

  
Luckily, the train arrived just as he did, and Jon could easily slip into the crowded wagon. With a few bells ringing, the doors glided closed and the vehicle set in motion.

Jon heaved a sigh. He hated mornings like this, where he was rushing and stressing and couldn’t even take the time to walk his own dog. Overall, he was a chill dude, though prone to brood. He considered quitting his job every day, but every day again, he convinced himself not to. Why, he did not actually know.

Maybe because he desperately didn't want to give Catelyn, his father's wife, the satisfaction of knowing her husband's bastard was a failure, working as an assistant to a renown bitch.

He unlocked his phone to check the texts he had gotten. Sam had messaged him asking for advice on what to get for his wife’s birthday. Jon wondered why Sam would ask _him_ , of all people, considering that his love life left much to be desired. He texted back that Sam should get her something that held significance to her; like a certain book she enjoyed or had fond memories of.

Those from his family were mainly about how excited they were to see them again, Robb saying he couldn’t wait to go drinking with him since the others couldn’t keep up with him. He replied to all of them, saying he was looking forward to seeing them and that his plane would leave at 7 pm and that he would arrive in Winterfell at around 11 pm.

His mind wandered off to the North. The rolling hills and white, snowy plains surrounding the house. His family lived on a big estate just outside of the city. They had enough money; Eddard Stark, Jon’s father, was a real estate owner, and owned a lot of buildings, houses and land in the North, but also other parts of the country. Ned had offered to buy an apartment for Jon when he moved into the city, but Jon was stubborn. He did not want anybody’s charity, if he was to make it in the big city, he would do so by himself.

The static voice of the speakers announcing his stop took him from his thoughts. High screeching of the brakes accompanied the train coming to a stop. Most of the passengers in the wagon got off and Jon joined the throng of people wanting to go outside.

A shy sun greeted him in the street, its rays weakly reflecting off of the sleek mirrored glass buildings. The business district was completely different from the rest of the city. Where most of buildings in the city were kind of old and low rise, here big skyscrapers reached for the sky. The sidewalks were packed with businessmen in suits and women in high heels and fancy clothing, no doubt on their way to work.

Making his way between them, he went inside a small cafe on the corner of the street. Once he was inside, the barista standing behind the counter waived him over. He squeezed through the people in the packed shop, apologizing to the people who shot him dirty looks, no doubt annoyed at him for cutting in line. Jon had been working for Daenerys Targaryen nigh on two years, and he came to this coffeeshop frequently to get coffee for his boss and himself. The people here knew him and his order. Daenerys’s had never changed; she always drank a macchiato, with an extra shot and caramel drizzle. Jon drank the same as her in case he spilled one, which had definitely happened once or twice. He had been pleasantly surprised of her choice of coffee. When he came to work for her, he thought she would like cold brew coffee, not unlike her cold demeanor, but instead she preferred hers hot and sweet.

The girl behind the counter passed him the two coffees. He went to grab his wallet, but she stopped him with a smile, saying he looked like he needed a bit of kindness. He thanked her, returning her smile, and exited the joint.

On the corner of the street loomed a huge building. To people passing by the structure itself did not stand out, just a regular-looking black mirrored box, beside it being somewhat larger than most buildings on the street. The entrance, however, took people’s attention; the entrance was elaborate, wide with huge opulent doors decorated with golden lions. Above it hung the name of the company in gold: Lannister Publishing.

His watch read 8:55 when he got to the doors and went inside.

He felt the funny feeling in his stomach subside while the elevator slowed down. Jon tapped his foot impatiently; he only had a few minutes left before Daenerys would be here. She was never late and hated tardiness – he found out the hard way when he was late once due to a defect regarding elevators, which meant he had had to run of more than a dozen flights of stairs. He had entered the meeting with his suit darkened with sweat, which was the only thing that kept him from being fired; one of the few times Daenerys had been rather nice to him.

The doors finally opened to the familiar area. The walls were lined with big offices for the higher-ups, while the middle of the wide space was filled with numerous cubicles for assistants, interns and secretaries.

Greeting a few coworkers, he rushed to his desk all the way at the end, close to Daenerys’s office. He set the cups down on the table, and logged into his computer to check Daenerys’s schedule and the time, again. 9:01. _She’s late._ This was unusual for her. He checked his e-mails. _No new e-mails._ He checked his phone. _No texts from her._

Just as he was about to be alarmed, the office quieted down, and he heard the clicking of the heels on the white marble tiles. Those two combined only meant one thing around here.

Jon got up at once, taking the coffee from his desk and stood next the entrance of her office, righting his clothes as he did. She was looking at her phone so she didn’t notice him moving around clumsily. She wore a black above knee-length dress with a V-neck; not special or expensive looking, but he knew for a fact that the high heels she wore –to add a few inches to her small height– had a red sole. Her silver hair was down in curls, something that didn’t happen often since it was up in elaborate braids most of the time. Her big designer bag decorated her left arm.

When she got in close proximity, he noticed dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well, the concealer she had applied not properly hiding them. He put on smile to hide his dislike for her, and he reached out the hand holding the cup. “Good morning,” he greeted politely, choosing to not comment on her time of arrival or appearance.

“Good morning,” she responded tartly, looking up briefly from her phone, snatched the coffee from him, and went inside the office, leaving him to trail after her. “Do you have the manuscripts for me?”

“Yes,” he dashed to his cubicle to pick up the thick stack of papers from his bag. “here you go.” He laid it on her desk while she went to sit on her chair.

“Did you read them?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied quickly.

“Was it good?” Her voice took on a curious tone, which made him believe that maybe she _was_ interested in his opinion. He took the leap.

“Not really. The story is about a man and woman who fall in love, but later find out that they are related. He ends up killing her, which, in my opinion, doesn’t make sense at all.” He hoped that he hadn’t overstepped his bounds, but to his surprise she snorted, an odd sound, considering he had barely seen her smile in the time he had worked for her.

“That sounds like trash, but Oberyn has never let us down before and maybe with some good editing, it can become something worth publishing.” She asserted while she greedily drunk from her coffee. “I’ll give it a read-over when I got the time. Speaking about time, what’s on the schedule for today?”

Jon tried his best to remember everything, “First, you have a conference call in twenty minutes, then at 10.45 meeting with sales–”

“Did you call Missandei about the new translations?” she interrupted him.

“Yes, the meeting is at 2, but before that you have lunch with Loras Tyrell about his new biography at 12.30.” He tried his best not to be annoyed at her interruption. This is how it went every day, but she still got on his nerves from time to time.

“Okay.” After a pause she continued. “Push the sales meeting to 11, and call Varys and tell them to convince Stannis Baratheon to do an interview with the King’s Landing Daily. It is about time that grumpy man works a little harder to get readers interested in his books.” Daenerys ordered him, rummaging around her desk to search for a file.

“Sure ma’am,” Jon nodded. He walked out of the office and went do the tasks she had given him, first calling for the meeting, the lady on the other side sounding positively irritated.

After a few hours, Daenerys called him into her office. She had the Oberyn manuscript in front of her. “I need you to work with me on this, this weekend. This is an utter mess.”

“I can’t, my dad is celebrating his birthday this weekend, I even asked your permission to have Monday off since his actual birthday will be then.” He tried to reason with her, but as with so many things with her, it was to no avail.

“I’m sorry but you’ll have to give a call then. This is something you need to learn when you want to become an editor one day; sometimes work comes before family and friends. Your uncle will have a birthday again next year.” Her voice had taken on a harsh tone, not sounding apologetic at all, and he decided that he’d do well not to argue with her next time. She looked near to bursting with anger, her violet eyes taking on a dangerous glint.

He looked down, feeling defeated, and she went inside when the phone in her office rang.

A few moments later, she came out again, and motioned for him to follow her. “Tyrion wants to see me.” She said cryptically.

Jon wondered what Tyrion wanted with her. Tyrion Lannister was Daenerys’s boss; the son of Tywin Lannister, the owner of Lannister corp., where Lannister Publishing was a part of. Tyrion was a nice man, funny and sometimes a bit too familiar, but that only added to his kindness and sincerity.

They made their way through the hallway, to the elevators, entering the first one that opened its doors for them. “I have a lot of work to do and I have a meeting to get to, so if this meeting takes longer than exactly 3 minutes, you knock on the door and tell them they are asking me why I’m not at the meeting. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Jon answered, puzzled. She was behaving strangely.

They reached the right floor. The halls here looked cleaner and whiter than the ones on their floor. Here the executives of the company were situated. They reached two big doors. Daenerys knocked once before going inside amid protests from the blonde secretary seated next to them. She glanced at him, baffled.

Jon shrugged; he had no idea what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, please leave kudos if you liked it, and comment your thoughts.


	2. A Sudden Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I understand we are in a difficult situation, and that is why we-” she joined Jon who was still standing at the door, “have something important to tell you. We are getting married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos on the last chapter. I’m overwhelmed to the positive response to this. As a writer I feel so much more motivated when I read your nice comments. And even though I don’t always have the time to respond, I always read them.
> 
> Also a special shout-out to Kantstopwithmyships for noticing the little easter-egg I wrote into the previous chapter. If you didn't catch it, it is where Jon is talking about a manuscript with Daenerys.
> 
> Here’s the new chapter; hope you like it :)

The heavy oaken doors closed with a bang, the woman at the desk outside still trying to stop her from barging in. But she didn’t stop. In her years working she had found that barging in on people unnerved them, giving her the edge in a conversation. She didn’t care about the fact that Tyrion was her boss; she was too exhausted to care.

She was called in the middle of the night by the gold cloaks. Her brother had been arrested, again. She had to bail him out, again. She wasn’t even aware of him being in the city in the first place. But that was Viserys to her; the elusive brother, never in sight or heard from until he needed her help.

Her brother was a drug addict. Whether it was coke, weed, or pills, she was sure her brother had snorted, smoked and swallowed it all. It was impossible to count the amount of times she had picked him up from the station on the fingers of her two hands.

Viserys infuriated her to no end. He was on a path of self-destruction. No matter how many times she had attempted to wake him up to reality, he never did. Viserys was her brother, whether she liked it or not. He was the only family she had left. And after all the loss they had experienced together, she felt duty bound to care for him in any way she could, even though her feelings on the matter were conflicted.

By the time dawn had come around, she was emotionally drained. She had gone to work, desperate for some relief from her wreck of a personal life. However, she had felt out of sorts at the office, her sleep deprivation no doubt catching up with her. And then her outburst, and Tyrion calling her.

Tyrion had called her personally, which was nothing new, but the tone his voice had held had given her chills. They were good friends. She knew he adored her, and they always spoke freely with each other, but on the phone, his voice had sounded strained, which puzzled her.

The anger she had felt for Jon’s insubordination had made room an odd sense of dread settling in her stomach, something she barely ever felt.

Tyrion’s office was spacious; the floor to ceiling windows giving a majestic view of the city, and the other walls lined with a huge collection of books. A mahogany desk was positioned on one side, and on the other stood a big sofa and two armchairs.

In one of the armchairs sat Tyrion, blankly staring at the floor. In his right hand he held a glass of wine, which was something he was known for doing, but it was surprisingly early, even for him, to be drinking. Her heart sank when his gaze met hers. He looked even worse than her today; his dark-blonde hair disheveled, and the lines on his face pronounced, making him look his age. By the grave expression he gave her, she could tell he had some bad news. Suddenly she was even more grateful for telling Jon to get her out of this after three minutes.

In the other chair sat Jorah Mormont. He was her immigration lawyer. She had an inkling of what this conversation was going to be about; Jorah had been trying to speak with her. Unsurprisingly, she was always busy and every time Jon had brought it up, she had just waived it off, hoping he would get the message and stop contacting her. But now he sat in her boss’ office, regarding her with his usual formal and stoic countenance. She should have known that he wouldn’t relent so easily.

“Daenerys, good morning and welcome.” Tyrion greeted her though he did not seem at all to be having a good morning. “Please, take a seat.” He offered, gesturing to the couch. She strode over with powerful steps to mask the feeling of anxiety, but the small frown on her face still betraying her concerns. When she finally sat down, Tyrion cleared his throat, “Do you remember, last month, when you went to Volantis for work?”

“Jorah here told me that he has been trying to get in contact with you-” Tyrion glanced up to the man next to him, who nodded at the mention of his name. “but that you have failed to get back to him”

“I’ve been really busy, with Oberyn’s new book, and persuading the Bank of Braavos to finance our new deal, so I haven’t had the time.” She replied while eying Jorah and Tyrion both.

“Luckily, I’m here now so we can talk.” Jorah spoke this time, still so calm and composed

“Actually, your trip to Braavos is what we wanted to talk to you about.”

Wringing her hands together, the motioned him to continue with her head.

“As you know, the immigration office has been handling your application for your new visa. One of the conditions was that you must stay in the country until further notice, in other words, until your request has been denied or granted,” Daenerys felt her hands get clammy. She remembered Tyrion telling her that she was not allowed to leave the country, but, as always, she had been stubborn and had not listened to him. Realizing where this conversation was going, she felt the unease settle in her body again. Jorah still continued, “but you did not listen and went to Braavos anyway.”

“What are you trying to say” She asked innocently, as if she did not know already what he meant.

“You are being deported. Back to Valyria.”

The news still hit Daenerys, who felt the air leave her lungs. She gritted her teeth, resolute. She hated losing and she would not go down without a fight.

“You can’t be serious.” Jorah and Tyrion did not appear to be joking. Her confidence diminished and she grappled for something. “It- It’s not like I’m an immigrant, I was born on Dragonstone; Dragonstone practically _is_ Westeros. You can see it lying on the horizon if you look close enough.” She stood frantically, walking up to the windows, and pointed at the Blackwater Bay outside.

“That may be, but it is still part of the New Valyrian Empire, and the immigration office has the right to deport you if you don’t have a valid visa.”

“Al-alright, fine.” She was distraught, she took in the view, racking her brain for a solution. Coming up short she simply whispered; “There must be something we can do.” She did not want to live on an island which she hadn’t been to since her mother died. An place which held so many memories too painful to be reminded of every day. She hoped there was a way she could stay here, in King’s Landing.

But her hopes were immediately crushed when she turned and saw the deep frown on both their faces. “We can reapply for a new visa, but you must leave the country for at least a year.” Jorah looked at her apologetically.

“That is-” she took a deep, calming breath, smoothing her hands on her dress in a soothing motion. “That is… inconvenient, but I can work from Dragonstone and manage everything with videocalls.”

“You cannot work for a Westerosi company while your visa application is pending.”

Daenerys felt defeated. She had worked so hard for this, had even found a semblance of happiness, all to lose it over some mistake with her stupid visa. After her mother had died five years ago, she was lost. Tyrion had looked after her and made her the woman she was today.

“Daenerys, you know better than anyone that I care for you and would never subject you to this if I had any say in it. We are doing all we can, but I’m afraid there’s not a lot we c-” he was cut off by a knock at the door. They simultaneously turned their heads to see Jon in the opening.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt.” his voice sounded unsure, glancing at the men inside the room, his gaze then settling on her. “Miss, you’re late for your meeting; they just called to ask me where you are.”

His dark eyes catching hers, she suddenly got an idea; one that might save her career. She had never been more grateful for him.

“Gentlemen,” she began, turning back to Tyrion and Jorah, while discretely motioning for Jon to come to her. After a pause and a confused and terrified look he shot her, he stepped inside the office. “I understand we are in a difficult situation, and that is why we-” she joined Jon who was still standing at the door, “have something important to tell you. We are getting married.”

In the corner of her eye, she noticed Jon tense. Tyrion and Jorah seemed to be in a similar state of shock, her boss’ mouth even slightly agape.

“You are getting married?” Tyrion asked, dumbstruck.

She nudged Jon with her elbow, urging him to say something. “Y- Yes, we are,” he stuttered.

“Yeah, we uh-” she struggled to come up with a believable story, “all the time we spent together, and something just… started to grow.” _That was the best you could come up with,_ she admonished herself _, seriously?_

Jorah scanned them both, like seeing them for the first time, clearly not believing what he was hearing.

“So, is this good, are we good?” she questioned, hoping this conversation could be wrapped up quickly and get them out of this awkward situation.

“Yes, wonderful. Just make sure to get it all sorted out.” Jorah explained still not thoroughly convinced. “You two should go to the immigration office as soon as possible to file your papers.”

“Then that is what we will do,” Daenerys agreed before she took her leave, Jon in tow.

* * *

The silence in the elevator ride to their floor was deafening. So many thoughts went through her head, just as she imagined were going through his. Jon still appeared to be frozen. The walk to her office was unsettling, all the people staring at them as if they were a float in a parade. She wondered if they already knew.

When they entered the room, he closed the door, and turned to her. “What the fuck, Daenerys? Are you insane?” he kept his voice low; she could tell he was putting much effort in trying not to shout. His hands were twitching and the muscle in his neck strained. She couldn’t fault him for cursing, she had expected him to be angry with her. “We are supposed to get _married_?”

“Don’t be crazy; it has to be for maybe a month, at most, then we’ll get a swift divorce and forget it ever happened.” Her reasoning didn’t work, he still looked ready to gauge her eyes out.

“And what if I refuse to marry you?”

“Well then you can kiss your dreams of becoming an editor, and inspire millions with beautiful books, goodbye.” she declared, taking a step closer to him, challenging him. “You know that when I go, Ramsey Bolton will fill in my place, and after the stunt we pulled getting Oberyn to sign his contract with us, he will fire you without a second thought.”

She wasn’t lying. Ramsey also worked as an editor for the company and had been waiting for a promotion for a long time. He had never liked her, nor Jon for that matter. Ramsey had been trying for the longest to sign Oberyn, but she had done so in a night she would rather forget now. A heated argument had ensued, for their whole floor to witness. He had called her a whore, among other things.

“You do realize that lying about these sorts of things is a crime? That we could both go to _prison_ if they find out?” his eyes darkened; his anger ready to reaching a boiling point. She had never seen him like this.

“ _If_ they found out. Which is why we shouldn’t be yelling in here while everyone who is trying can hear us.” After a moment she continued, “Cancel all my appointments for today, after lunch we’ll go to the immigration office together.”

“You still expect me to just do my job, following all your orders while you are forcing me to marry you? That is unreasonable and you know it.”

She did know. She felt like a horrible person, dragging him into her mess. But she had no choice, did she?

“Fine. What will it take for you to marry me, besides being able to keep your job? Her violet eyes met his dark ones, and he sighed, maybe finally submitting to his fate.

“If I do this, I want a raise,” she went to interrupt him, but he kept going, “ _and_ you’ll give me a promotion.”

“Is that all?”

“No,” he sounded smug, a smirk playing at his lips. “I want you to go to one knee.”

“To one knee?” She repeated, incredulous, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening.

“Yeah, propose to me.”

“What? No way,” She frowned. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her on her knees.

“Yes, you will. You want me to marry you, right?” She glared at him. “Well that is the way to ask someone.” He said, pointedly glancing at the floor.

She seriously contemplated just stopping this lie to go any further, not caring if that meant she would lose everything she had worked for. She gave him her dirtiest look, but then obeyed him, putting her pride aside; as much as it pained her to admit it, she needed him to go through with this.

She went to her knees in front of him, the tight skirt of her dress not allowing her to go to only one. “Is this good enough for you?” she asked sarcastically. It didn’t work to throw him off though.

“It’s perfect.” She wanted to slap the self-satisfied grin off of his face.

“You just love this, don’t you?” He smiled a broad breathtaking smile as a way of answering, taking her off-guard; he never smiled. “Will you marry me?”

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He chuckled, rubbing salt in the wound.

She gritted her teeth, settling on just going along with his intention; she scooted closer to him on her knees, grabbing his hands with hers and holding his gaze which darkened slightly. “Dearest Jon, I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me, and make me the happiest woman on earth?” She was taunting him, and he knew; his smile widening even more.

“How can I refuse when you are asking me so enthusiastically?” She was sure he was having the time of his life by the way he was peering down at her on her knees. “I will marry you, Daenerys Targaryen.”

He ambled out of the room then, opening the door and leaving her to get up by herself.

* * *

Jon was relieved that they had gone for a quick lunch at Hotpie’s before coming here. The immigration office was packed. Daenerys did not seem to care, tough, as she just walked right past the line, to the reception desk. Jon turned to the people, offering apologetic looks, while motioning to Daenerys in front him as a way of saying ‘not my fault’. The receptionist behind the desk looked them up and down, she scrunched her nose in repulsion, as if seeing something she utterly hated. He knew that Daenerys had seen the look as well, but she ignored it, instead reaching inside her designer bag to retrieve a few papers.

“Hi,” Daenerys began sweetly, placing the documents on the desk, “can you please file this fiancé visa, please?”

The woman scoffed, probably at Daenerys’ clear entitlement, but checked the papers anyway. After a moment she looked up at them both again.

“Ms. Targaryen?” she asked, eying Daenerys.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Please come with me,” the woman moved away from the reception and went inside one of the hallways. Daenerys glanced at Jon with a frown, but then followed the woman.

She led them to one of the offices in the back. The space was crammed with files and documents, but it was still clean and organized. A computer was on the desk, along with a few personal items such as photos.

“Wait here, Mr. Baelish will be with you shortly.” She said, and left them alone again.

They both sat down on the chairs clearly meant for clients. Daenerys was staring to the ground, wringing her hands together nervously, not speaking to him. He realized that maybe this wasn’t as easy for her as he might have thought at first. But his feelings of compassion went away as quickly as they came when he remembered that she was the reason they were in this situation in the first place.

After a while, the door opened and a man entered. He was weaselly looking, a bit creepy even with his weird mustache. He wore an impeccable suit, which was a contrast to the unnerving way he carried himself, like he knew everyone’s secrets.

He shook both their hands, introduced himself as “Petyr Baelish, but call me Littlefinger” and sat down on his chair. For a moment he didn’t continue, and just sat unmoving, observing them with beady eyes. Jon fought the urge to squirm in his seat uncomfortably.

“So, I have one question for you.” Petyr looked at the file he had picked up from his desk, opening and reading it. “Are you both committing fraud to avoid deportation so she-” he stared right at Daenerys, “can keep her job at Lannister Publishing?”

He had to try his hardest not to let his mouth hang agape. He felt sweat starting to form on his brow. He saw Daenerys blink a few times. Already someone suspected their story to be false. She tried to say something but it came out as a stutter. He decided to help her, if they were caught, he would be held accountable too.

“That’s ridiculous” He replied, though not with as much indignation a he would have liked to make it believable.

“Y-Yeah, what makes you say that?” Daenerys stuttered a little.

Petyr seemed rather amused, not believing them at all. “I got a phone call from-“

“Let me guess, Ramsey Bolton?” Daenerys cut him off. The man had some guts to him.

“Yes, Ramsey Bolton”

“I’m so sorry. Ramsey is nothing but a mere colleague preying on my position. I apologize, we know you must be really busy.” she deflated, and the anxiety in his belly subsided somewhat. “We just want to know what our next step is and we’ll be on our way.

“I’ll explain the next steps of the process.” he enunciated. “First, there will be an interview. I’ll place you in separate rooms and ask you both questions every _real-_ ” he pointedly glanced at both of them, “couple should know about each other. Then there will be more thorough investigation; your phone records, I’ll speak with your neighbors, friends, colleagues. If something doesn’t point to this engagement being genuine, ms. Targaryen will be deported indefinitely, and you, mr. Snow, will go to prison on top of a huge fine.”

Jon felt the need to readjust the collar of his shirt. He suddenly felt as if he was suffocating. To make matters worse, Petyr settled his piercing stare on him.

“So, do you have something to confess?” Petyr prodded him. Daenerys turned to him to await his reaction. He changed a look at her, her eyes expectant but pleading.

He was tempted to come clean then and there. What did he care that she would be deported? At least he would not be going to prison. But then he realized that he would lose his job, and everything he worked for during 2 years as Daenerys’ assistant. He cleared his throat from the lump that had formed there.

“The truth is…” he glanced at Daenerys again who seemed alarmed at his words. “Daenerys and I, we are just two people who were never meant to fall in love. But, as with so many things we aren’t supposed to do, we did. And with my upcoming promotion to editor, we deemed it only appropriate that we wait with announcing our relationship.”

Jon wanted to laugh. Not only had he, hopefully, won over Baelish, but he had also successfully backed Daenerys into a corner. There was no way for her to break her promise. By the way she pursed her lips he knew she realized it too. To cover it up, and to play the role of the smitten couple they were, she awkwardly grasped his hand in his lap.

“Do your families know of your secret relationship?” Baelish seemed bored now, perhaps sad that he was unable to get a confession out of them. Though he was still staring at them intently, giving him the impression Baelish was trying to see the truth lying in their souls.

“No. My parents are dead, and last living relative is a brother in rehab.” Daenerys said matter-of-factly though he did notice the trembling in her lower-lip.

Jon was shocked. He knew her parents had died a long time ago, despite Daenerys barely talking of them. But he did not know that her brother was in rehab. The earlier sympathy he had felt for her, returned.

“Oh,” Petyr seemed at a loss for words for the first time since their conversation had started. However, he quickly recovered. “And your family?”

“Alive, very much alive” Daenerys answered for him, all too eager to talk of anything but her family. “We actually wanted to tell them the news this weekend. We’re going to his home for his dad’s birthday.”

Again, he was in shock. This woman never failed to amaze him. For all her many flaws, she could be a convincing liar, if he disregarded that incredible excuse of a lie in Tyrion’s office earlier today.

“And where is that exactly?”

Daenerys’ expression turned panicked, but then she schooled them in a smile. “The North of course, have you seen his last name?”

“Winterfell” Jon helped her out.

Petyr grabbed a post-it note and pen. “Alright, then I will see you on Monday-”

“Actually, my dad’s birthday is on Monday so we’ll be back on Tuesday.” Jon grinned inwardly; he loved the new position of power he held over Daenerys. Now she could not object to him being with his dad on his birthday.

“Tuesday it is then.” Baelish agreed, quickly scribbling the details on the post-it note and handing it to Jon.

They said their thanks and goodbyes, and left the office. When they were outside, they finally felt like they could breathe normally again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and kudos if you liked it. You never know, it might motivate me to write the new chapter even faster ;)
> 
> See you next time <3


	3. Beginnings in Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys make their way to the Winterfell. Some secrets are divulged, some kept under lock and key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing. I’m speechless. The response to this has been huge. Thank you all so much for your nice comments. It brings me so much joy to see you all like the story so far.
> 
> Also, as you might have noticed in the previous chapters, there is mentions of alcohol/ drug abuse. There will also be a few implications of violence, rape, abuse etc. So, if that triggers you in any way, please proceed with caution.
> 
> Daenerys has kind of a sad backstory, which we will read more about in this kind-of-filler chapter. Daenerys’ backstory is one the reasons the story will differ from the movie a lot more from now on. This is inspired by the movie; it isn’t rewrite with GOT characters.
> 
> Anyway, here’s the new chapter, I hope you all like it :)

The sun had begun to set when Jon saw a black car roll up to the curb in front of his building. A woman with silver hair got out and walked up to the door. His doorbell rang. Daenerys and him had planned for her to pick him up at his place since she was the one with a car. Then they would drive to the airport together.

He answered the intercom, stating that he would be down in a second. He shrugged on his coat, and swung his backpack over his shoulder. Grabbing the dog leash from the dining table, his suitcase and the big crate for Ghost during the flight, he turned off all the lights in his apartment. He did a mental check to make sure he did not forget anything. Following Ghost who had already left the apartment through the door, he went down the hall to the elevator.

Jon had considered leaving Ghost at Sam’s house; his friend had a young son who would have loved to have the big furball to play with for the weekend. But Jon wanted Ghost to come with him, so he could run around and enjoy Winterfell with his siblings.

A cold breeze hit him when he opened to front door to the street. Winter was finally arriving in the city. He couldn’t wait to go back home to Winterfell. His siblings had been sending him pictures of white hills and their dogs running around in the snow for days now. It made him even more excited.

Daenerys stood waiting for him on the sidewalk, her arms wrapped around her. She had changed in a more casual look. A pair of simple black pants, a red top with a boat neck which showed off her collarbones, and a long black coat to shield her from the cold, though it didn’t appear to be working very well, she was shivering.

He himself had changed out of his suit to normal day-to-day clothes. Jeans, leather ankle boots, and a dark green sweater. Winterfell was going to be freezing, which was nothing out of the ordinary for the North. Blizzards weren’t unheard of, since it was the beginning of December and basically the middle of Northern winters.

Ghost shot from beside him, and started sniffing her. She froze for a moment, no doubt frightened by him; he was a very large, wolf-like dog after all. But after a moment, her shock seemed to melt away, and she crouched in front of him, petting his fur.

“I’m sorry,” said Jon, walking up to them, “He doesn’t always get excited like this. He must like you.”

“I didn’t even know you had a dog. He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Jon was stunned at the scene of his dog happily being scratched behind the ears by his boss. Ghost was normally protective of Jon and did not always respond in a good way to new people. Seeing Daenerys interact with Ghost so easily was weird for him. With Ygritte it had taken a while for them to get used to each other.

At his thoughts about Ygritte, he swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat. He did not want to think of her. Their time together had ended years ago, but still his heart betrayed him sometimes when he thought of her.

“His name is Ghost.” Jon stood watching his pet and his boss, now _fiancée_. He’d better get used to it. If they had to convince his family their engagement was real, he figured it was best to let them get acquainted for a bit. Having Daenerys freeze up every time Ghost came near her would simply not sell the story.

If he was supposed to be engaged and eventually married to her, he was determined to try to make it at least tolerable, for the both of them. They had made a better start someone in their situation could have hoped for; yes, they had yelled at each other, and yes, they clearly disliked each other, but they had still remained somewhat civil. Though he did feel satisfied when he had demanded she ask him to marry her. He did not want her to think he was just some toy to toss around however she wanted.

Then at the immigration office she seemed upset and emotional. Which puzzled him, because Daenerys never seemed to feel a lot of emotion, and if she did, she covered it well, but if she did, her mask had started to crack a bit already today. He was eager to see what would happen if it broke away completely.

“Ghost.” She repeated, as if testing the name in her mouth. “I like it, it suits him.”

Deciding Daenerys had nuzzled Ghost enough for now, she straightened herself again. “Let’s go. Before we miss our flight.”

After their appointment at the immigration office, they had immediately upgraded his one economy seat, to two business class seats. Daenerys preferred to fly business or first class. She always said she didn’t want to sit in such a small chair, but he thought she was just spoiled. She was small of stature; she would have more than enough space for her legs. Unlike him, who was a lot taller.

Daenerys went ahead to the car he’d seen her get out off. It was black, a big Porsche to be exact. She opened the trunk, and left him to lift his belongings inside, next to a big suitcase.

He laughed. “Did you think we were going away for a month? What is in that thing?”

Daenerys just rolled her eyes, but still seemed a bit embarrassed at his teasing. Jon put his stuff next to hers, let Ghost jump inside, and closed the trunk again.

He took his seat next to Daenerys who sat behind the wheel. She turned the key, the engine of the car staring, and drove away smoothly.

* * *

In the car ride to the airport, Daenerys felt uneasy. Like something was making her want to tap her fingers on the steering wheel, wanting to fidget. Jon sat next to her, staring out onto the road. She did not know why she felt this way. Her thoughts went back to her brother.

Last night, she had driven in this same car as well. In the same car as she sat now. But her brother had sat in the back seat, well, sat was a gracious word. More like half asleep, sprawled on the leather cushioning.

She had driven to a place outside the city, a place she knew too well. It was a rehabilitation center. One where Viserys had been a dozen of times. But every time after his release, he would just relapse and the same song would be sung all over again.

Daenerys had had enough. The last straw had been picked. She was determined to make an end to her brother’s mistreatment of himself, and, in extension, her. Since she was always the one to pick up the pieces.

She had dropped him off without as much as a goodbye. Viserys was too drugged up to care anyway. When she got home, she had tried to sleep, but she couldn’t. Instead she cried.

She always tried to be strong. She tried to shield her professional life from her personal one. Which, she found out, was incredibly hard when your life was falling apart at the seams. As a result, she was hated at work, seen as the evil woman; ambitious to a fault and not caring about others.

But at heart she was just a woman crippled by the she felt for the deaths of her loved ones. Her parents and Rhaegar. Drogo too, even though she knew she shouldn’t. She had loved him for a short while. She had lost so many. That’s why she was so furious at Viserys. Didn’t he realize that if he died of his drug problem, she would be all alone? Without a family to love her?

That thought made her think of her situation now. She had dragged Jon into this mess, without thinking about him at the time. She only thought about herself and finding a solution to her problem. Only when he had yelled at her in her office did she consider the repercussions her decision would have. For both of them.

“I’m sorry, you know” Daenerys suddenly felt the need to apologize to him. Her actions weighed heavily on her.

“For what?” Jon asked, not picking up on her meaning. He looked at her with a frown on his forehead.

“For dragging you into this, my mess.” She glanced briefly at him, and she noticed that he looked surprised, his eyes wide. No doubt he had not expected her to express regret about her actions.

“I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“Maybe not, but I _am_ sorry.” She eyed him for a moment, before returning her eyes to the road. Jon still had a frown on his face. He was staring at the street, contemplating her words. “I know it must be hard for you. Suddenly needing to marry your boss, and also having to lie to your family, especially while it’s your father’s birthday.”

She had gathered over the time they had worked together, that Jon loved his family. The way he spoke about his siblings, the few times that he did, warmed her heart. It made her long for that sort of bond herself. But she would never have that. Some wicked part of her loathed him for it.

“He’s not” Jon murmured so softly it was a wonder she heard him say it.

“What?”

“He’s not my father” she looked over at him, eyes wide. Had she heard him correctly?

“What do you mean?”

“I call him my father, but actually he’s my uncle. My mom is his sister.” Jon explained, still staring ahead, avoiding her confused gaze.

He swallowed, a pained expression taking over his face. “I never knew my dad; my mom and him weren’t married and he abandoned her when he found out my mother was pregnant. My mom decided to keep me but she died giving birth. My uncle promised her he would take care of her son. So, he did.”

Daenerys tried to take it all in, while still driving to the airport. What he had just told her was a lot, and it was probably difficult for him to say to her. She did not know how to react, but she did not want to sound rude or unsympathetic. But before she could say anything he continued.

“I grew in Winterfell with him, and his children; my cousins.” Jon was still scanning the road, “And his wife, Catelyn, although she doesn’t like me very much.”

“Why not?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“My parents weren’t married. I was born out of wedlock, which means I’m a bastard. Catelyn is a religious person, and her faith condemns people like me. I’m no exception for her.”

“So, she hates you for something outside of your control?” she voiced. Jon nodded. Daenerys was curious now. To meet the woman who had been cruel to Jon for such a blatantly ignorant reason. It’s not like Jon wanted to be born a bastard. In today’s society it wasn’t even that frowned upon anymore to be a bastard, but she could imagine it was a heavy burden to bear.

“I’m glad you told me. Could have resulted in some really weird conversations had you not. Imagine me trying to be nice to her, trying to get her to see our engagement as true, all the while thinking she was your mother, instead of some…-” she was trying to find the right word.

“Bitch?” Jon interjected, chuckling. She was glad that even when talking about a subject that was clearly hard for him to talk about, he still found a way to make it more lighthearted.

“Exactly.” Daenerys knew all about problematic families or, specifically, family members.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see you rattle her cage, but I don’t think that’s wise. They are not going to believe we are getting married just because we told them. I have not told them who you are, nor that we are getting married. I just told them I was bringing my girlfriend. Hopefully we can manage their reactions when we tell them in person, because I do not expect them to be ecstatic of the prospect of me marrying you.”

Of course they wouldn't. She was aware of the fact that Jon’s family did not like her and they’d rather see him working for someone else. But Jon had kept on working for her.

“We’ll just have to try harder to convince them. Something I’m quite good at, if I do say so myself.”

“It won’t be that easy” Jon repeated again, more serious now.

“What did you even tell your family? About me?”

She saw him flush slightly, embarrassed. “Just… Nothing specific.” Was all he said.

The earlier silence in the car returned. Daenerys thought about what Jon revealed to her. She wondered what was waiting for them when they arrived in Winterfell.

* * *

King’s Landing Airport was hectic. Everywhere he looked, there seemed to be people running all across the departure hall. Christmas was coming up in a few weeks so maybe there were already people leaving for home. He could not think of another reason why the airport would be so full of people on a Friday night.

When they arrived, they had gotten a cart which now held Daenerys’s giant suitcase, his smaller one, and Ghost’s crate for the flight.

Their baggage drop-off went fairly quickly, despite the airport being so busy. Ghost got some good scratches behind his ears –to Jon’s surprise also from Daenerys– before he was trolleyed away by a steward who would make sure he got on the right plane.

“So, I was wondering, what did you do to Ramsey.” Jon asked after a few minutes. They were wandering through the airport, making their way to their gate at a leisurely pace. They still had enough time to reach their plane and be on time. He saw Daenerys tense up a little at his question.

“When?” she asked nonchalantly, trying not to appear affected.

“You know, with signing Oberyn. You had a big argument afterwards, remember?” He looked at her intensely. She seemed to want to flee rather than tell him.

“It’s not important, we signed Oberyn, and that’s what matters. Ramsey hated me already before that, he would use any excuse to be angry at me”

She was avoiding his question, trying to change the subject. But he would not let that happen. He had the right to know these things when she was the one forcing him to marry her.

“You told me if I didn’t marry you, Ramsey would fire me. I didn’t do anything and I don’t know what _you_ did. So, it _is_ important to me if it puts my job at risk.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him with flaming eyes. Other people in the hall turned to stare at them, her raised voiced drawing their attention. Daenerys seemed to notice too since she glanced around at the people as if challenging them to make them stop her. But then she locked eyes with him again, and continued a bit more muted. “Is that so hard for you to understand? It’s not important.”

She stalked off angrily. He had no choice but to follow her.

He couldn’t believe he had told her about his family. In a moment of weakness, he had thought that they had come to an understanding, that they would try to make the best of their situation. One they both clearly did not desire. It was always hard for him to open up to others, but he had done it. To _her_. And Ygritte, but that was different; she would always have a special place in his heart, even though it didn’t work out.

He regretted telling Daenerys, now more than ever. If anything, he did not think it below her to use the information to hurt him.

He had been relieved that she hadn’t responded in the harsh way he was used of her. He had felt more assured that maybe, just maybe, they could pull of this charade. But now, only a two-hour flight removed from seeing his family again, he felt the feeling of impending doom settle in his stomach. They were fighting as usual; nothing had changed.

The static voice of a woman on the speaker called on all passengers on their flight to make their way to their gate; the plane was boarding.

Quickly walking to their gate, they were just in time to get on the plane. Jon felt himself getting more nervous. He was about to see his family again, but would have to lie to their faces about this engagement and subsequent marriage. He could already tell how this would go; they would not believe him. He had told them all about how much he disliked Daenerys.

Maybe, just maybe, Daenerys and him could pull this off. Otherwise he was in big trouble, and Daenerys too. The few times she had; she never spoke of Dragonstone with much appreciation and love. She would probably hate to go back there. A disturbing idea crossed his mind, tempting him to report this scam engagement and marriage to the immigration office, and see her shipped of to Dragonstone, and force her to live a miserable life. Jon pushed the thought back immediately though; his father had raised him to be honorable and kind.

Then again, was lying to him and his siblings so honorable?

Jon and Daenerys didn’t speak while boarding the plane. They settled in their seats. Sitting next to window, he had a nice view of the lights of the city in the dark. As the engines were started and the noise got more insistent, so did Jon’s nerves.

* * *

The plane was quiet. Their plane had taken of little over an hour ago, which meant that they still had about an hour to go. Jon was reading a book in the seat next to her. It was a good one; she had read it herself not even a week ago, she might have even recommended it to him.

Daenerys felt nervous, again. This newfound sense of dread was not something she liked, or desired to keep antagonizing her. Her feelings reminded her of her first husband, Drogo. One more reason to try to get these emotions to go away.

Daenerys had been young when she met Drogo. It had been just after her father and brother had died. Her mother had become a shell of what she used to be, her brother starting to go down the wrong path.

She was struck with grief, with no one to talk about her worries. It had affected her judgement, and so when she met Drogo and he treated her like she was the whole world, he seemed like the perfect man for her. He was older and she was young, too young, she realized now. She had been stupid, not seeing the real man behind the façade of presents and sweet words until it was too late. Only after they had married did she find out what he was really like. It was not pleasant.

Drogo had dealings with the wrong crowd, the sort you don’t want to mess with. He died in a gang shooting. The circumstances dubious.

She hoped with her whole heart that this situation with Jon would not end up the same way. She didn’t think she could endure another betrayal from people she cared about. Because she did care about Drogo, but only the Drogo she knew before their marriage, before he got violent with her.

Surprisingly enough, she did care about Jon. He might only be her assistant, but she admired him in her own way. His determination to keep working for her, even though she was cold and spiteful most times, earned him her respect.

She got shaken out her reverie when Jon closed the book he had been reading. He reached for his backpack under the seat in front of him, putting the book inside and taking a thin stack of papers out.

Intrigued, she asked him, “What are those?”

He shoved his bag under the seat and faced her. “After our talk with the immigration office, I did a little research and found a list of questions they can ask us during our interview.” He kept his voice low, as not to disturb the other passengers. She had to lean in a bit to make out his words. “I thought maybe we could skim through them, check off what we know already.”

“Okay, fire away.” She sat back, waiting for him to start asking questions.

“I know almost all of these about you already.”

“Impossible.” She grabbed the papers from his hands, and started browsing them. She did not believe that he knew everything about her. She was actually a awfully secretive person. Her face lit up when she found the right question. “Do I have any pets?”

“No, you don’t but you have always wanted a dog.” Jon said smugly. She was stunned. How did he know that?

“Alright, next.” She had found another question. “Do I have any tattoos?”

A frown formed on Jon’s forehead. He appeared to be deliberating his answer.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t.” His final answer was.

“Wrong,” she beamed, “I have one. Well actually it’s three, but they form a whole, I guess.”

“What is it?”

“Three black dragons.”

Daenerys had them tattooed after her mother had died. They meant a lot to her, a tribute to the family she lost.

“Can you show me?”

“No, I can’t. It requires… taking off clothes.” She felt her cheeks heat up a little. Her tattoo was on her upper thigh and hip, she couldn’t show it to him with all these people around.

She tried not to ponder on what that thought could be perceived as. That she _wanted_ to show him. But she didn’t. She was sure of it. It was only reasonable that he should know what her tattoo looked like. They had to convince Baelish they were getting married after all.

She handed the papers back to Jon, convinced that she needed the practice more than him. She only had a few days to do so, so she’d better start.

“When’s my birthday?” Jon started.

A frown formed on her forehead. She was sure she knew, that he had told her once or twice.

“November 11th?” she ventured, not really confident in her answer.

“Close enough.” Jon smiled, “My birthday’s November 23th. How do I like my coffee?” he continued.

“I know for a fact that you drink the same coffee as I, but you prefer black coffee with a bit of milk.”

She watched the expression on his face turn confused and curious, his dark eyes looking at her with amazement, and a frown on his brow. He seemed to want to say something, but a stewardess came by to tell them the plane was about to land and they should prepare by fastening their seatbelts.

She felt the plane glide down, and before she knew she could see the lights through the window next to Jon.

Winterfell.

She released a breath she did not realize she had been holding when the wheels of the plane made contact with the ground. But at the same time, she felt the nerves she had forgotten while talking with Jon, settle in her stomach again.

This was bound to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you liked it, please leave kudos and comments. They motivate me to write and give me new ideas for the story.
> 
> I probably won't be able to post for a while since a have a lot of tests coming up for school.
> 
> Subscribe to the story to get a notification when the new chapters come out!
> 
> See you next time with a new chapter :)


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